


Family and Jealousy

by completelyhopeless



Series: Two Circus Birds [13]
Category: DCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2956352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyhopeless/pseuds/completelyhopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barney and Clint stay on while he recovers. It's awkward. Barney's still jealous of Dick. Clint feels left out when Bruce manages to act like a father to Dick. And then Barney decides to flirt with Dick's other best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family and Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> I know that, eventually, the boys have to split ways again, but I didn't want it to be right after Barney came back into their lives. They had to try and make it work while Barney was recovering, and this is what happened.

* * *

Awkward was all the manor knew anymore.

Awkwardness between Bruce and any of them was a given, because Bruce didn't know how to react in any way that wasn't an act, except with Alfred, though since Alfred seemed to have some sort of unspoken disapproval thing going on, there was some tension there.

Awkward was Dick trying to apologize to Barney and Clint standing there praying—and since when did _he_ pray—that Barney wouldn't start the whole thing over again. It was where Clint stood, in the middle of his brother and everyone else, trying desperately to hold onto what he had while he was torn in two directions.

He hated being awkward. A part of him said they should have just left, but where were they going to go when Barney was all messed up and needed care and they couldn't afford to go? Barney seemed to realize that for a change, and he didn't say anything, which made Clint worried and uncomfortable, but he just tried to hold it together so they could stay and Barney could heal.

* * *

Bruce had this new policy of near openness that was creepy as hell to Dick.

He wouldn't let them tell Barney that Bruce was Batman or Dick was Robin—Barney would flip if he knew Clint had the name Hawkeye and went around shooting people, so no one even suggested that he be told that—but instead of training in the Batcave, Bruce took them outside, not far from Barney's window, and sparred with them in the yard.

Dick was sick of the lectures on control, but Bruce made him learn. Robin couldn't allow himself to act on his emotions in a fight. Batman didn't, and Robin couldn't, either. He couldn't lose his temper. Couldn't lose focus.

So they fought, Bruce would try and provoke him—which in most cases, was just funny instead of being intimidating or anything—and Dick just tried to keep up with Bruce because the older man was fast and dangerous and sparring wasn't a joke and could hurt if he wasn't careful.

Bruce pushed him harder, and Dick hated him for it as much as he knew it was necessary because he could never let himself go as far as he had with Barney again.

* * *

“Thought you said he wasn't like that, didn't knock kids around.”

“He doesn't,” Clint said, not looking back at his brother. First time he'd seen Bruce and Dick spar, he'd thought for sure that Bruce was going to kill him. Dick was too small to hold his own against a guy like Batman, but Clint had been wrong. Bruce didn't hold back much with Dick, sure, but it was because Dick moved like a snake, weaving in and out of combat, dancing circles and even doing tricks around the other man.

Hell, it was why they called Robin the Boy Wonder and why criminals were actually scared of a little kid when most of them would have laughed off the idea of Batman having a sidekick. Clint figured they must have in the early days, but Dick wasn't someone they could laugh at now.

“Come on,” Barney said. “That's the kind of thing they objected to Swordsman doing with you.”

“No.” Clint turned to face his brother, stopping himself from poking Barney in the chest and hurting him again. “It's not. Swordsman's routine was dangerous, and I knew it. We all did. I learned it with dull blades and plastic knives before I ever got close to the real thing. It wasn't that part that anyone objected to. It was when he hit me for getting it wrong. When he made me repeat it until I couldn't anymore. He wasn't satisfied with the way Trickshot taught me, so he hit me until I got it right, so that I never missed. Bruce pushes Dick because he refuses to see him hurt again. And it worked on you—Admit it. Dick kicked your ass.”

Barney said nothing. He wouldn't. Clint didn't care. They both knew the truth.

* * *

“What is it?”

Dick almost jumped, and Bruce frowned. Robin wasn't usually jumpy. He was a fairly level headed kid, which was the reason that Bruce had taken him on and trained him as a partner, the reason why he was willing to teach him and train him and work with him despite the occasional outburst. This last one had perhaps been the worst, but he had responded well to the steps that Bruce had taken to adjust his behavior.

“Sorry,” Dick said, running his hands over his arms. He looked around the room, shaking his head. “I just got lost in thought.”

“Something bothering you?”

Dick hesitated, and then he nodded. “You know how sometimes it's the calm before the storm or maybe the eye of it? Like it's fine now, but it's about to come crashing down in a minute. I keep thinking that's what's going to happen here, with Clint and Barney and all of this. It can't last, this truce. I want it to, because I don't want to lose Clint, but I know it will. Nothing good lasts.”

Bruce could have offered a platitude for that. He didn't. He knew all too well how good could be lost in an instant and how it was never the same again afterward. Dick knew it, too. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Dick snorted. “You suck at pep talks, you know that, don't you?”

Bruce shrugged. “I'm not here to cheer you up. I leave that to Alfred. He's better at it than I'll ever be. He knows what he's doing.”

Dick rolled his eyes like Bruce was copping out, and maybe he was, letting Alfred see to most of the boy's emotional needs, but while he sometimes saw himself mirrored in Dick, that hurt and pain from the loss, he didn't know how to reach the boy. Alfred did. “You should call him Dad.”

Bruce blinked. “What?”

“He's your father. Whether you realize it or not, he is. He raised you. He took care of you. He bandaged wounds and held you when there were tears. Your father gave you life, but he died, and Alfred is the one that helped you _live._ If you can call this living. He's your father. He's even my father. You're supposed to be that, but you don't know how.”

Bruce opted for the way his public persona would react to that, choosing a playful response and ruffling Dick's hair. “Thanks a lot, kid.”

Dick shrugged, smiling slightly. “It's just how you are. Just like Barney is the way he is. He and I are never going to get along. I can try, I can bend over backward and do everything perfect, and he won't ever accept me. I'd have taken him on as a brother years ago like I did Clint, but Barney can't see family as something that isn't defined by blood.”

Bruce frowned. “That's an interesting theory.”

“Not theory. A fact,” Dick disagreed. “I should be explaining this over one of Alfred's cookies, but the point is—to Barney, family is blood. Only blood. Not to me or Clint or you or Alfred. I grew up in the circus. We were all a big family there. We weren't all close—I was close to my parents and Zitka and Clint. Still, they were _all_ family. You're family. Alfred is family. Clint is family. Barney won't let himself be. He lost everything when he and Clint were young, and so Clint's all he's got left. The only family he has, the only one he thinks he _can_ have. So he's overprotective and jealous and hates me.”

“Because you're Clint's brother, only not by blood.”

“Exactly.”

“He's an idiot,” Bruce said, and Dick laughed, and that time, hugging the boy wasn't awkward at all. It was natural and happened without either of them realizing it at first.

* * *

“What's with you?”

Clint shrugged, not sure he can name it, and not wanting to say it to Barney, of all people, because Barney wouldn't understand. He was too jealous of Dick, and if he heard Clint give voice to this, well, then, he'd hate Dick even more.

Because, when Clint thought about it, it was simple. He was jealous.

Bruce and Dick had fallen asleep during a movie. Barney had snorted in disgust at the two of them, thinking it was pathetic to be asleep in the middle of the afternoon, but Clint knew they'd been up all night before, and only in the small hours of dawn had the Penguin returned to Arkham. He'd been up most of the night himself, listening to the two of them on the comm frequency they shared with his hearing aids, tracking them across the city and trying to find a way to get there with his own bow without his brother noticing.

The thing was, though, and Dick didn't see it—couldn't or wouldn't—that Batman had _one_ sidekick, and that was him. He didn't want anyone but Robin, didn't care about anyone like he did Robin. Dick was special. No one else could fall asleep on Batman like that, no one else could get that worry in his voice when he thought one of Penguin's goons had really hurt him. No one else could get Bruce to act like a father or older brother to them. Just Dick.

Clint would never be a part of that relationship, never have that kind of closeness with Bruce or Batman. The man might be willing to train him and let him stay in his home, but he wasn't going to make Hawkeye his sidekick or take Clint on as a son or younger brother. It wouldn't ever be like that for them.

So he was jealous. He was glad Dick had this, but he couldn't help wishing he had it, too.

* * *

“Don't,” Clint said, catching Dick's hand before he could move. “Just... don't.”

Dick forced himself to breathe out and in, trying to calm down. “He's doing it again, trying to provoke me. Why, Clint? What did I do? I have been so careful not to do anything, not even going near him half the time, and he still does this. He still tries to push things and hurt me.”

Clint frowned. “You know that isn't necessarily why he's doing it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dick demanded, staring at his friend. “I know you're his brother, but you're crazy. You know exactly what he's doing.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No,” Dick snapped, hitting him. “I do not have to be jealous to worry about your brother hitting on Babs. He's a jerk. I know he's your brother, but he is. He doesn't actually _like_ her. He's just doing this because she's my friend. He's gonna hurt her, and if he does, I'm gonna kick his ass again.”

“Dick—”

“I'm not kidding. Keep your brother away from her.”

“What if Barney really likes her?”

Dick just snorted as he walked away.

* * *

“You haven't said anything to me all day,” Barbara said, reaching over to grab Dick's pencil so he couldn't keep ignoring her. “What's bothering you?”

“Are you really going out with Barney?”

Barbara frowned. That was what had put Dick in this mood? He'd been acting strange for a while now, but she'd ignored it, telling herself it was him reacting to being in school again after getting his hearing back. “Who told you that?”

“He did,” Dick said, his pencil snapping in his hand. He looked up at her. “Babs, do you really like him? Like... a lot?”

“Dick, if this is about us—”

“No! I don't know why everyone thinks I have to be jealous to be—It's not me that's jealous. It's Barney that is. He hates me because he can't stand Clint being my friend. He thinks I'm stealing his place. I'm not, I'm not even _trying_ to, but he doesn't see it. I don't... I'm afraid he's just messing with you because of me, and I don't want you getting hurt.”

She shook her head, torn between thinking Dick was a bit of an overprotective idiot and perhaps one of the sweetest kids she'd ever meet. She reached over to pat his cheek. “I'm fine. Thank you for... for caring, but I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself.”

“If he hurts you, I'll kick his ass.”

She laughed. “If he hurts me, you won't have to, because I'll already have done it.”

He leaned over and hugged her. “Promise? Because I _so_ want to see that.”


End file.
